Those Nights
by Blinded-Kit
Summary: part three and last part


Own Nothing.

Part-Three.

* * *

Hermione loved him, she loved her, and she loved them both. She never thought the way both of her lovers were spies, both part of a secret organization that wanted her dead, that sent both of them to kill her at different points of her lives. That they were ever meet.

She came home one day from work to see them both sitting at her table. If she thought a situation could have been any more awkward then this, she was sadly mistaken. "Clint, this is Natasha." She breathed, waiting.

"We know." Clint stated.

"We're partners." Natasha stated.

"Oh." Hermione looked between them.

Natasha smiled and stood up, kissing her girlfriend on the lips in front of Clint; she could sense her partner tense up. "Why don't you go start the bath?"

Hermione nodded; to dazed and confused of it all, she quickly left the room as Natasha sat back down. "She's mine Barton."

"She's mine as well." He replied and they stared at each other. Neither would be giving her up, the Witch that they both dearly loved. "We're going to have to learn to share."

Natasha smirked. "This should be fun."

* * *

Hermione couldn't for the life of her tell you how it worked. The relationship that had been years separated was now forced together and it worked like a well-oiled machine. Most of the time only one of them was there with her, sometimes, on occasion, both were and she enjoyed it either way.

The first few times the three were together was confusing. Hermione didn't know about the past relationship between her two lovers and that was something they had to fill her in on. "So not only are you two partners? But you two were lovers?" She asked just to be clear.

Clint and Natasha nodded and Hermione smirked. "Really? So you know each other's tricks?" They smirked, knowing where this was going. "Because she does this thing…" Hermione let the sentence drop as Natasha moved behind her, kissing her neck as her hand slipped through the underwear she had on. They were barely dressed after another round of sex. Hermione tried to get up to make food, but Clint and Natasha pinned her down. Clint owned the kitchen and Natasha held onto her while he cooked, playing with her, fingers brushing there, tickling there as Hermione watched her Boyfriend cook naked in her kitchen.

* * *

It was those nights where it was the three of them and they didn't have sex, they didn't try to hold onto each other for dear life but just watch old movies. They would watch movie after movie, comedies, thrillers, and horror, romance.

Sometime after the horror though Hermione get bored, she never like the idea of purposely scaring yourself. She had been through enough hell and she knew her lovers had to. She would smiled and amuse herself, staring at them carefully, her hands disappearing beneath the blanket that they had covering them.

She would watch their faces as she played with them. She always sat in between them and it was the perfect place to be to play with them. Clint is always the first to brake, he his hard in her hand and he lets his head fall backward, a moan escaping as she continues.

Natasha was harder to brake, she liked to watch, to observe others, and so it wouldn't be until Clint hits his climax that she would. But she never played fair either, as she slipped her hand between Hermione's legs and evens the playing field.

* * *

Hermione hated it when they were both on missions, she loved the feeling of it when they returned home, but she hated the feeling when they weren't there with her. Her bed felt empty, she could smell their scents on her pillows, in her sheets, but she was alone.

Hermione groaned and rolled onto her back, she missed her lovers, she groaned as she closed her eyes. She let her hand dip beneath her underwear and wished that it were Natasha's who obviously knew how to pleasure a woman. She felt her hand tickle her under lips before entering, her other hand under her shirt as she pinched her nipples, wishing it was Clint's mouth instead.

She moaned as she lost herself, whispering their names, wishing they were there. "Looks like someone missed us." She heard a voice, her eyes opened and she saw them standing in the doorway.

"I was enjoying the show." Natasha smirked. "Love a woman who isn't afraid to pleasure herself." She winked.

"Get over here." Hermione ordered and they dropped their bags and got there as fast as they could.

* * *

Agent Hill watched as Agent Barton and Agent Romanov left for another few days of leave between missions. "Sir, where do they go?" She asked Agent Coulson one day.

Coulson watch them leave and shrugged. "Somewhere where they can relax."

Agent Hill frowned. "They used to go different ways, but they go to the same place every time."

"Perhaps they found a safe house and go there." Coulson replied. "It doesn't matter. They always come back."

Agent Hill nodded and dropped the subject. It was weird though that they used to do separate R&R's but now they go together. She shrugged and got back to work, it really wasn't any of her business.

* * *

Hermione was working in her garden one day when she heard her phone ring. She looked up confused; it was a secure line that Clint and Natasha made her get in case of emergencies. She never had to use it before, and she was worried for the reason why it was being used now.

She stood up and dusted herself off, and ran to pick up the phone. "Hello?" She whispered into it.

"Hermione." It was Natasha. "Clint has been compromised. I'm heading to South America."

"Natasha, you're not supposed to be telling me this." Hermione replied, cutting her girlfriend off. "You can get into trouble."

"He is being controlled by magic Hermione, by Loki. He's a God."

Hermione sighed and nodded. "Yes, the Norse Trickster God. Natasha just be careful." Even though she knew that they would both be safe, her heart hurt. "Bring him home safely. Both of you come home safe." She ordered.

She heard Natasha laugh on the line. "I might have to knock him around a bit, to get him back to normal. But we'll be home. Promise."

"Good." Hermione sighed.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" Hermione held the phone to her ear.

"Love you."

Hermione laughed lightly. "Don't get soft on me now." She smiled. "Love you to." She hung up the phone and sat down at the table. "Come home soon." She whispered.

* * *

Hermione, like a lot of people around the world, watch the attack on New York on her TV, she fought everything in her body to just go there. But she knew that they would be more worried about her than fighting for their own lives. So she waited at home.

She knew they were safe when the battle ended, that they would return home as soon as they could. She had a cup of tea waiting for Natasha, like their routine and she read a book, correction, she tried to read like she was whenever Clint came home.

Because that was she was doing when they came home. She knew that when they did get home, no tea or baths would be wanted. Just the bed, so she had that ready as well. Sheets clean and pillows fluffed, as she grew anxious.

It was the afternoon of the next day when they finally got home. Hermione had fallen asleep on the couch, the tea cold on the table; her book had fallen to the floor. They stood staring at her, smiling as Clint kneeled down next to her. He brushed hair from her face, waking her gently. She blinked before her eyes grew wide. She grabbed him and kissed him deeply, hands running through his hair.

They broke apart, breathing deeply as she stared up at Natasha. "Your tea is probably cold." She whispered to the Russian spy.

Natasha dropped to her knees and pushed her lips against Hermione's holding her tightly as their tongues battled each other. When they finally broke away, Hermione was crying. "I was worried." She whispered, as she sat up. Clint and Natasha grabbed her hands and led her to the bedroom as they began to strip their clothes off. "You're home now. Safe." She whispered repeatedly as they fell into bed.

* * *

end. how did you like it?


End file.
